Kingdom Keepers V (9781423153429) (23 page)

“There are bugs,” the other girl said.

“Look, shut up. All we care about is that you do your job and get the box aboard the ship.”

“Tonight. Forward gang.”

“Correct,” said one of the girls.

“Whatever you have to do to make that happen, we don't care. Just so long as it happens.”

“It's going to happen,” the boy said.

“Okay, then.”

“Let's get out of this miserable place.”

The bushes up ahead rustled. There was no time for Willa and Charlene to leave the way they'd entered; they'd be seen. Instead, Charlene gave Willa a look that said,
Follow me!
and led her off to the side, deep within the dark mangrove.

They got a look at the two girls in profile, but the heavy shadows prevented a good solid view at their facial features.

The boy was a different story. He followed the two girls and stopped right where Charlene and Willa had stopped.

“One of you wearing perfume?” he called ahead, the girls absorbed by the undergrowth.

“We're Cast Members, idiot! What do you think?”

Willa could smell the lilac on Charlene from two feet away. She could have killed her for it. She shot her friend a look that said,
Are you
kidding
me?

The boy walked into some dappled sunlight. He was easily six feet tall. College age. Lifeguard-handsome with a tinge of boy next door. Square shoulders. Hair cut too short to guess its color.

He looked around like a hound sniffing the air. Looked right at Willa and Charlene, but did not see them—they hoped.

He continued on. “Wait up.”

But the Asian girls didn't answer. They'd left him well behind.

* * *

People rarely questioned Maybeck. Even adults. Either he was invisible or people feared him—he wasn't sure which. He didn't always think of himself as African American; he was “me” in his head. But how other people saw him was different. Sometimes it didn't work out all that well, and sometimes, like this, it worked out just fine. Because as he passed a sign reading
CAST MEMBERS ONLY PLEASE
and walked down a rutted sand road, no one tried to stop him from entering the staff area. No one spoke to him at all. He wore the cape of independence. No one was going to say boo to him.

More important, no one was going to stop him from doing what had to be done. His job was reconnaissance. He was a Keeper spy, sent to penetrate the enemy camp. Mission accomplished, he thought. At least phase one. He'd made it inside.

Now he had to start up a conversation—never a real sticking point for him.

The area was littered with all sorts of equipment, including a miniature tractor, bicycles, a dozen Pargos, tanks of propane gas, stacks of wooden poles, barbecue cookers, and fish netting. There was a galvanized metal Quonset hut, a white concrete building with only one window, clearly built to withstand hurricane-force winds. This unmarked building was the staff headquarters. Maybeck followed the sound of an air conditioner and knew this was where he'd find the action. He arrived at a small multipurpose room, off of which were a pair of offices. In the corner, a guy in his mid-twenties was reading a book while nursing a cup of coffee. Maybeck nodded hello. Judging by the guy's reaction, his island Cast Member costume worked—his khaki shorts and white polo were his passport to open access.

He reviewed the material posted on two bulletin boards, ignoring the printed pamphlets and focusing on the handwritten material.

But it was another note that caught his eye:

Maybeck reread this several times and wished Philby had already retrieved his phone so that he could take a photo of it so he wouldn't have to memorize it. Philby would know more about marine radios, but Maybeck recognized a possible Overtaker clue when he saw one: something out of the ordinary being done in secrecy. In this case, the use of a radio suggested off-island contact, possibly with a ship or even shore. And by using a radio, there would be no phone bill to trace, no evidence of such contact if anyone came looking. It reeked of the Overtakers.

“You're new,” the guy in the corner said. It wasn't a question.

Maybeck worried he'd lingered too long at the bulletin boards. Worse, he realized that the island staff was so small they all knew each other.

“Training,” Maybeck said. “I don't get to stay. I'm on loan from the
Dream
because so many of our guests signed up for the island.”

“Never heard of that,” the guy said. “I mean, the ship Cast Members always help out. But wearing our costume…”

“You wear what Laundry gives you. Am I right?” Maybeck said, his delivery cocky. One thing Maybeck never lacked was attitude. Times like this it came in handy.

“I wouldn't know. We wear the same thing every day.”

“You should see the laundry on the
Dream
,” Maybeck said, having seen it himself. “It's all computerized. A freak show. You show up, they read the stuff you're turning in, and it automatically tells them what to give you next. They gave me this,” Maybeck said, indicating his garb.

“Yeah? Well, welcome to the insanity. What's your assignment today?”

“Trash,” Maybeck said without hesitation. He had to figure anyone joining an established staff would start at the bottom.

“Figures.”

“No kidding.”

“My advice,” the guy said, “rebag it the second you take it out of the can. The crabs get in there somehow—don't ask me how—and chew holes in the bag.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

“Be glad you got trash duty. I have to walk the CO
₂
lines looking for breaks.”

“The what?” Maybeck said.

“Mosquito control. They're attracted to carbon dioxide.”

“I didn't know that. I always thought it was heat.”

“Carbon dioxide coming through your skin. Anyway, the way they control them here is this network of tubes all over the island that emit the gas. The mosquitoes go for the tubes, which are poisonous, and they're snuffed. Pretty slick.”

“I'll say.”

“But we're having problems with the tubes, so yours truly has to walk the lines checking valves. And by ‘walking the lines,' I'm talking about every swamp and bog on the island.”

“You do something to deserve that?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Got my degree in entomology. I'm the guy in charge of the system.”

“You're a what?”

“A bug guy. I majored in bugs.”

“Seriously?”

“Don't get me started. Six years of college serious.”

“Carbon dioxide?”

“Saves spraying the island with toxins. The company is way greener than people know. This island is heading to full solar and wind.”

“What would cause the problems with the tubes?” Keepers were trained to be alert to unusual changes in the parks, or problems; that extended to Castaway Cay. “Something chewed through it?”

“No, that's the thing. We have pressure sensors all along the system because of its miles of tubing. The computers log the sensor reports. We had incidents of pressure loss followed by normality. Two o'clock in the morning, the thing stops working for an hour. Right when we need it. We go out and check it the next morning and it's fine. Makes no sense.”

“Different locations?” Maybeck asked.

The guy looked at him curiously. “Why do you care?”

“I'm a problem solver,” Maybeck said.

“You're trying to get off trash duty.”

“That too,” Maybeck said, allowing a faint smile. “Could you use an assistant?”

“I'll tell you what: there's nothing to do on trash duty until after lunch. I can get you back by then.”

“For real?”

“If you want to. It's not pleasant. There's a lot of muck and mud—”

“And mosquitoes,” Maybeck said.

“The size of sparrows,” the guy said.

“I'm in.”

* * *

Following the instructions on the note he'd received, Finn stood at the edge of the stingray beach, wondering if he was really going to do this. The idea was to wade in, knee deep, and approach a Cast Member at one of the many stations where you could pet and feed stingrays. He was okay with the wading part, not so thrilled about the touching the fish part.

But the girl at the left station was Storey Ming, and she was staring right at him. Finn had told no one about the meeting, honoring her request in the note. Now reluctance tugged at him. Why couldn't she have picked the waterslide or the Jet Skis? Why'd it have to be here?

There were guests waiting in line to wade out to the stations. Dressed as a Cast Member, Finn had the privilege of jumping the line. Storey Ming's eyes bore into him, imploring him to do just that. He relented, stepping into the cool water and wading out.

“I'm training you,” Storey Ming said softly, “just in case anyone should ask, which they won't. So look awestruck. I'm a very good teacher.”

There was a white plastic track just below the surface. The stingrays were trained to enter the track and move station to station, where they were fed and petted. Being fed kept them interested in entering the track. It was a good system for all concerned.

Finn petted several—it felt way cooler than he'd thought it would. Then Storey Ming handed him some pellets and told him to hold his hand very steady, palm up. The next stingray swam over his arm and he felt a sucking, kissing sensation on his hand. The food pellets were no longer there when the stingray moved on.

“That felt very strange,” Finn said.

“It grows on you. I like it a lot.”

“I've never done anything like that.”

“So? What about the lifeboats?”

“You were right,” he said. He told her about the encounter with the hyenas, about stowing away on the lifeboats and following the sailors up to the massage cabanas. He told her he'd heard voices muttering but not the specific conversation, and he left out the part about Tia Dalma. Not everyone could handle the world of the Keepers and Overtakers. You had to ease them into it or they might form an opinion of you that was irreversible.

Certainly she knew about the Overtakers but hyenas on board the
Dream
had clearly stretched her level of credulity; Finn didn't want to push her too far too fast.

So he thought of a way to phrase his next question. “What kinds of religions are on board? In the crew, I mean?”

“You name it, we have it.”

“How about the more obscure ones, like voodoo?”

“Not that I know of.”

“People who believe in that sort of thing?”

“Cast Members or guests? Because when it comes to guests, my sense is, you name it, we see it.”

Finn hadn't considered that the lifeboats had been sent to bring Tia Dalma aboard for the entertainment of the guests.

Seeing no way around the truth, he said, “The lifeboats were sent to pick up Tia Dalma. She refused. Said to send ‘them' here. I don't know who she meant by ‘them.'”

“That might explain it,” Storey said softly to her-self.

“Explain what?”

“I hear we're staying in port until later tonight, not leaving at five as scheduled.”

“Here on the island?”

“Yes.”

“Is that such a big deal?”

“Only that it's never happened before.”

“Never?”

“Correct. Never. But tonight there's going to be a Beach Blanket Barbecue. Music. Dancing. Fireworks from the ship.”

Finn got the impression Storey Ming heard things she wasn't supposed to hear.

“I don't love it when plans change,” he said. It reeked of the Overtakers.

“You and me both.”

“Who makes such decisions?”

“Can't happen without the captain. The director of entertainment, Christian, would have to bring it to the captain.”

“That's high up.”

“As high as it gets.”

“Who could convince the director of entertainment to make that kind of switch?”

“Don't know. I'm not nearly a high enough rank to know.”

A certain green fairy? Finn wondered.

“So we've delayed our departure. We're staying for a beach party that'll put all the guests off the ship and on the beach.”

“Most of them. Yes. And nearly all the Cast Members and crew.”

“The ship will be empty.”

“It's never empty. It'll be lightly staffed. Most everyone in the crew will be onshore helping out. Some galley chefs and waiters will stay behind. The crew that manages the kids' clubs. You won't notice it if you're on board, but nearly all of the entertainment will be ashore.”

“Making it easier to sneak people off and back aboard.”

“That doesn't happen,” she said. “Trust me. Security on this ship is the best there is. Period. Nothing gets past Uncle Bob.”

“My friends and I did last night.”

“You were holograms,” she said. “Holograms don't present a real big threat, last time I checked.”

“Okay,” Finn said, “so if the change in plans is not because of that, then maybe it's to give Cast Members or crew a chance to meet secretly on the island.”

“It could be a million things,” she said. “Could be nothing.”